


Hostile Takeover

by coneygoil



Category: Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coneygoil/pseuds/coneygoil
Summary: The world is a dangerous place. With his power to control cy-bugs, King Candy reigns supreme, and his biggest target is capturing Vanellope. Her only hope is a small group of rebels hidden in the wastelands of Hero’s Duty that are aiming to take out the tyrant king.





	1. Chapter 1

“Make room, kid.”

“I thought we were done with the food run.”

“I found one more thing we need.”

Ralph stuffed a cherry as big as Vanellope’s head into the satchel with her. Vanellope rolled her eyes. She should have known Ralph couldn’t make a food run without snitching his favorite snack.

“You just had to get a cherry.”

“What? Getting my hands on one of these is a rare treat. Now pipe down before someone gets suspicious.”

A commotion further down in the port station caught Ralph’s attention. On a raised platform he could make out the bonbon-shaped head of King Candy, the shiny crown adorning his bolding dome. “Trouble up ahead. We better get back through the portal.”

Vanellope peeked out through the top of the satchel. “Wait!” Ralph halted, glancing over his shoulder at the small face peeking out from under the satchel’s flap. “I want to see what that crazy joker is up to.”

“You know it’s not safe, kid.”

“Nothing is safe anymore, Ralph. Just hang toward the back, okay?”

Ralph winced at the idea of being exposed to the outside world any longer than they had to be, but he obliged to the girl’s wishes.

As the pair drew nearer to the edge of the crowd, King Candy threw his arms in the air, tossing candy to the masses. “Come one, come all! Boy, do I have a treat for you today!” he chirped in delight. King Candy gestured for his guards to join him on the platform, the oversized donuts manhandling a furious Jumpman from the Donkey Kong realm.

King Candy flung his arms out wide, making every single movement a spectacle. “This criminal has been caught, and will finally be put to justice!” He turned to the criminal in question. “Anything to say for yourself, Jumpman?”

The mustached man muttered something fierce in Italian then spat on the ground at the king’s slippers. King Candy shrugged his shoulders. “Did anyone get that?” he giggled, leaning an ear out toward the crowd, “No? Okay!” He flittered his fingers at the guards. “Release them.”

A terrifying buzz drew close as two cy-bugs bolted from a laser-barred cage off to the side, the acid green code of their eyes zoning in on Jumpman. Gasps of horror echoed through the crowd as the Italian was ripped apart pixel by pixel by the pair of cy-bugs.

Ralph watched in alarm, his stomach suddenly wishing to lose its breakfast. He’d momentarily forgotten his tiny companion in the satchel, her horrified gasp alerting him of her presence. He reached back to close the satchel’s flap. “Let’s get outta here, kid.”  

* * *

Calhoun sat beside the stainless steel toilet bowl, flushing the contents of her stomach down before the smell triggered another bout of nausea. She breathed in deep, willing her insides to calm down. She had no time to be sick; too many people depended on her leadership.

“Tammy?” she heard her husband call from the bedroom. She didn’t have time to lock the washroom door when she sprinted in there a few minutes prior. She pushed off the wall carefully to stand, and walked to the sink to clean up.

“Oh, there you are.” Felix appeared in the doorway, his doting eyes taking in her ruffled state. “Are you okay, hon?”

Calhoun swished a sip of water around before spitting it into the sink. She accepted the towel Felix handed her, scrubbing away the experience. “Eggs didn’t sit right,” was her explanation, because honestly, she didn’t know what was causing her stomach to revolt. She glanced down into her husband’s worried face. “I’m fine, Fix-It. Anything to report?”

“Ralph is back,” he answered solemnly as he trailed behind her, “He says it was a rather disturbing run.”

Calhoun nodded, waiting to ask for the full report from Ralph. She and Felix walked quickly to the conference room, passing a few stray civilians through the hallway.

“What dirty deeds of King Candy-bug do you have to report to me, Wreck-It?” she asked, leaning her backend against the rectangle table.

Ralph frowned, head hanging low. “We witnessed an execution.”

“We?” Calhoun emphasized, saving the questions of the gory details for after this unbeknownst information.

Ralph rubbed the back of his neck. “The kid joined me.”

Calhoun’s eyes flamed as she pushed off the table, fist at the ready to deck Ralph in the face. “You know better than to take the kid out there! King Candy has placed the biggest bullseye on her back, and you’re going to risk her life for a food run!”

“I know, Sarge!” Ralph retorted, raising himself to full height, daring to take on the marine. “She was hidden the entire time. But after what we saw on this run, Vanellope is never going out there again.”

“What happened?” Calhoun growled, backing down but only a tad.

Ralph’s shoulders dropped as the fight left him. “King Candy drew a crowd to the platform, and in his own sick way, had two cy-bugs tear Jumpman apart.” He inhaled a shuttering breath. “And the kid saw the whole thing.”

“Oh my land,” Felix gasped, his presence forgotten by the two taller individuals in the room. “How is she?”

Ralph shrugged, half-heartedly. “Quieter than usual, but she seems okay.”

“I’ll go check on her.” With that, Felix left the room.

A beat of silence thick enough to slice filled the space around them. Ralph shifted his weight and cleared his throat, the tension obviously getting to him. “We need to get rid of this guy, Sarge, and quick before every port in this station is destroyed and everyone is dead.”

“You don’t think I know that,” Calhoun snapped, fists balled at her sides. She turned her head, her face hidden behind a protective curtain of bangs. The burden of their dire situation weighted on her shoulders as if she were Atlas himself holding up the earth.

“King Candy is the only cy-brid known to exist,” she continued, beginning to pace the length of the room, “We’ve never battled anything like him. To be able to control every cy-bug hatched is possibly the most dangerous power any being could ever have.” She paused, finally looking Ralph’s way. “Organizing an ambush and taking Candy out has been near to impossible.”

Ralph frowned. “I know,” he said softly, “I’m just worried for the kid. How can he hate her that much to want her dead? She’s just a little girl, for pete’s sake! What did she ever do to him?!”

“Because for some reason, she’s a threat to him,” Calhoun reminded him.

“But why? King Candy has every port in the station under his foot. Why would he be so concerned with getting his hands on Vanellope?”

“Hate can run deep inside someone’s code, and Candy is more like the king of lunatics. He’s out of his mind, Wreck-It.”

Ralph rubbed a huge hand over his face, a frustrated sigh escaping his throat. “I’m gonna go check on the kid.” He lumbered out the room.

Calhoun leaned against the table, crossing arms over her chest as she listened to him leave. They couldn’t stay hidden in Wasteland forever. King Candy would one day find a way inside, and that would be the end of their barren sanctuary. The only options were to take out Candy or stay put until they were found; either choice that was made, they were doomed.


	2. Chapter 2

Pauline felt the floor give way under her as she opened the front door to her humble home to find King Candy on the other side. “Your majesty,” she greeted, wearing a feigned smile as she gripped the doorknob in an attempt to keep her hand from shaking. Only days before, her neighbor, Jumpman, had been executed by the man shadowing her doorstep.

“Awww, Miss Pauline,” King Candy chided sickeningly sweet, flicking his wrist in a circle, “No need for formalities.” He leaned in as if whispering a secret. “But I’m flattered, nonetheless.”

“How may I help you?” Pauline asked, trying to move along the conversation. The least amount of time the tyrant was at her doorstep, the better.

“Do you have any tea?”

Pauline lost her tongue for a moment, puzzled by the inquiry. “Yes,” she replied, hesitantly.

“Oh, good!” Candy strolled across the threshold, invading her home. “Kettle up a pot, will you, my dear.”

Several minutes later, a kettle was whistling and Pauline found herself pouring a cup of tea for the king. She sat across from Candy in her living room, fingers wrapped tensely around the handle of a teacup. She breathed in the steam, the deep breaths settling her nerves slightly.

Her visitor, in every way, appeared harmless and to an extent; almost comical in his pillow pants and high lacy collar. But Pauline knew better. A monster dwelled inside the man who calmly sipped on his tea.

“I’m sorry to inform you this isn’t a social visit,” King Candy said after several quiet sips.

Pauline’s heart began to pump faster, and she tried to keep her voice steady, “Oh?”

“I hear you were associated with some of the rebels.”

Pauline’s teacup froze an inch from her mouth, the impending doom dancing in her chest. “I was, yes.” An image of Ralph flashed over her mind’s eyes; months had passed since she’d seen his face in person. “But I haven’t seen or heard from any of them since before they went into hiding.”

King Candy ‘uh-hm’ed’ in his drink. “Well, as you know, these abominations to society are a threat to my kingdom.” He leaned toward Pauline, a wicked smile gracing his face. “We wouldn’t want that would we, my dear?”

Pauline gulped down a sip to keep from having to answer.

King Candy set down his cup before hopping up and straightening his waistcoat. “If you see or hear from these fugitives, inform me at once! Good day to you.” He spun on the ball of his foot, heading toward the front door. “Thank you for the spot of tea,” Candy called over his shoulder.

Pauline stayed frozen in her chair, staring at the frail barrier between her and the tyrant. All these months she’d eluded any questions about her association with King Candy’s most wanted list, so why now?

She closed her eyes, cursing under her breath when it hit her. Even spilling her personal information didn’t save Jumpman from the fate King Candy had planned for him. Now his vital error could get her and Donkey Kong killed.

* * *

Ralph slipped through the porthole, praying for a clear alleyway to conceal his oversized form. Not 10 minutes prior had Q*bert reported spotting King Candy exiting Donkey Kong’s porthole. Ralph had dashed off at hearing the news, his concern for Pauline clouding his better judgement of staying hidden in Wasteland. He needed to know if she was okay; whether that megalomaniac had threatened or hurt her.

Ralph hovered in the shadows of the alleyway, yanking his sleeves over his enormous hands. It was a rather difficult job to conceal his identity. There were many large individuals roaming the Port Station, but he was the only one with fists as big as watermelons. The cloaking device he wore had a short life of 30 seconds before having to recharge. He groused at the Hero’s Duty scientists for creating a killing machine like the cy-bugs, but not being able to equip a longer lifespan of one of their lifesaving tools.

He was ready to set the cloaking device and make a run for Donkey Kong’s porthole when a glimpse of red caught his attention.

Ralph’s heart stopped at the sight of her. For months he’d kept his distance in valent effort to protect her from any suspicious ties to him. He couldn’t stay away any longer, not while he feared for her safety.

Pauline’s steps brought her close enough to the alleyway, and in one wide swing, Ralph swiped her up as if the passage had suddenly swallowed her. He pressed her back against his chest, one blocky finger covering her mouth.

Pauline’s protests died down as soon as she heard him, “Paulie, it’s me.”

He carefully set her down, only to be smacked on the arm by Pauline’s tiny fist. “What’re you doing out here, Ralph? King Candy is-“

“I know,” Ralph interrupted, keeping his voice low, “Q*bert saw Candy leave your port. I had to check on you.” He bowed up, anger flashing across his face. “If that psycho laid a finger on you-“

“He didn’t,” Pauline soothed, touching Ralph’s hand. “He invited himself in, wanting tea and to know if I was in contact with any of you in Wasteland.” A rustle at the mouth of the alley alarmed them, but nothing was there. “I think Jumpman told King Candy about us from before the takeover,” she continued, casting her eyes to the side.

“He had to place your life in danger,” Ralph growled, not feeling as sorry for Jumpman as he had. He felt Pauline’s slender fingers wrap around one of his massive ones, her touch simmering down his temper toward the departed Italian.

“Freeze, you!” a yell echoed off the walls surrounding them. Ralph and Pauline snapped out of their moment to find Duncan and Winchell blocking one way out of the alley.

“King Candy must have sent them to follow me,” Pauline gasped.

Without a word, Ralph scooped up Pauline and dashed off the opposite direction as the cops. He pressed the cloaking device on his person, and he and Pauline disappeared as if they were never there.

Ralph turned the corner out of the back of the alley, heavy-footing it to the other porthole that led to their safe haven. He weaved as best he could around people, his lumbering build a challenge to maneuver. The cloaking device buzzed, indicating the 10 second warning.

The distant shouts of the police were far behind them as Ralph rounded a corner, nearing the second porthole to Wasteland. He placed his thumb on the keypad hidden on the metal wall, and the porthole shimmered open. Ralph quickly jumped through as his cloaking device disabled. He took in several sharp breathes, still holding Pauline protectively against him, the adrenaline that coursed through him slowing.

“Ralph?” a shaky voice called, breaking Ralph from his frozen state. “Are we…in Wasteland?”

“Yeah,” he answered as he set Pauline down. He sighed. “Looks like I won’t be going on food runs anymore.”

Pauline spun around, her long brown hair flying over her shoulder. “I can’t be here.”

Ralph gestured toward the closed porthole. “There’s no going back now, Pauline. They saw us together. You’d be a target; imprisoned.”

“That’s why I must go back! They’ll question DK, and all that spells is trouble.” Pauline crossed arms over her chest, hugging herself as she paced. “DK won’t understand. He’ll think I need help and will lash out at them.” She looked up at Ralph, her cheeks already stained with tears. “King Candy will kill him. I need to go back.”

She brushed passed him toward the porthole, but Ralph held her back by the shoulders. “What? So you’ll be killed instead?”

“I’d rather be killed than hide here while an innocent life is taken!”

An anchor sunk to the bottom of his chest, threatening to pull his heart down with it. This wasn’t the reunion Ralph had longed for all these months. He couldn’t let Pauline leave knowing the fate that awaited her, but that was precisely how she felt about Donkey Kong if she stayed in Wasteland.

Ralph closed his eyes, knowing the deadly risks that would accompany what he was about to do. “I’ll get DK and bring him here.”

Pauline drew in a ragged breath, clutching the sleeve of his jacket. “No, Ralph. He’s my responsibility; not yours.”

“But I’m the one that jumped into action to make sure you were okay, and now yours and DK’s life is in danger.”

Ralph heard footsteps approaching, most likely one of Sarge’s soldiers on patrol. He checked his cloaking device, thankful that it had charged enough to use again. “If I don’t make it back, tell Vanellope I was trying to live up to being the hero she thinks I am.”

Before Pauline could reply, Ralph opened the porthole and jumped through.


	3. Chapter 3

“Halt!”

Pauline stayed planted in the spot by the porthole as the soldier on patrol confronted her, gun raised.

“State your name,” he demanded, coming closer.

“Pauline from Donkey Kong. Wreck-It Ralph brought me here.”

“Where is Wreck-It?”

More footfalls approached, and barely a moment later, Sergeant Calhoun appeared. Pauline didn’t miss the look of surprise on the woman’s face when she caught a glimpse of her. The look quickly vanished as Calhoun addressed her, “What’s going on? Q*bert informed us that Wreck-It ran off into the Port Station.”

“Ralph thought I was in trouble,” Pauline explained, her hands hovering in front of her in a surrender position, “He found me in the port station, but there were cops trailing me. We had to make a run for it. I wanted to go back for Donkey Kong, but Ralph jumped through the porthole before I could.”

“Enormous blockhead,” Calhoun hissed, reattaching her gun to her back holster. “I won’t risk sending a rescue team while the station is a hot spot.”

Pauline bowed her head as tears pricking the corners of her eyes, the onslaught of the events of the last hour dropping on her like a pile of bricks. How could everything around her come crashing down in a matter of minutes?

“Hasselback! Stand guard here to see if Wreck-It shows back up,” Calhoun ordered, and the soldier responded with a sharp salute. “Pauline, you follow me.”

* * *

 

The 10 second warning buzzed. Ralph knew he wouldn’t make it to the Donkey Kong porthole before his cloaking device deactivated. The entrance was a straight shot from the alleyway he was currently lining.

With a quick glance in both directions, he made a dash for the porthole of interest, his enormous form popping into existence as he set foot inside the entrance. Taking a deep breath, Ralph walked through the port, blind to whatever awaited him in this world.

A chill ran up Ralph’s back at the eerie quiet hanging in the air. The Donkey Kong port was always a rather empty place. Only three residents ever occupied the simple space, and it made an outsider wonder why the unfinished construction site was ever created at all.

Ralph stepped cautiously toward the center of the world, searching the construction beams for any sign of the giant ape. DK wasn’t the most pleasant of fellows to be around. He didn’t speak, using grunts to communicate (which were usually reserved for Pauline), and you could never tell if he was angry or content with the continual scowl he wore.

Ralph stopped at the foot of the construction site, no sign of DK to be found. He turned to go check the small wooden house close by that Pauline shared with her ape companion. Yelping, Ralph jumped back at the massive figure that greeted him.

DK had a few inches on Ralph and probably a couple hundred pounds too making the stoic primate a bit intimidating even for someone as big as the wrecker.

Ralph cleared his throat, giving a nervous little wave. “Oh hey, DK. Remember me? Ralph? I’m a close friend of Pauline. Look, big guy, you really need to come with me. King Candy was trailing Pauline, and she got mixed up with me and I had to bring her into hiding. But she didn’t want to leave you behind, so I volunteered to get you and bring you back with me.” DK’s face didn’t budge the entire explanation, and Ralph was beginning to think he wouldn’t find a way to get the big guy to come along. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

DK blew out a sharp breath through his nostrils then lumbered toward the porthole.

“Well, I guess we’re on the right track,” Ralph muttered, following after the giant ape.

He checked his cloaking device, not surprised that it hadn’t charge all the way yet. They needed a plan to get across the station, but the way DK was hefting it, Ralph doubted the ape would stop long enough to formulate anything.

“Wait, DK,” Ralph called as the ape approached the world’s porthole. “We can’t go out there just yet. King Candy’s goons are more than likely patrolling.”

The warning fell on deaf ear as DK pressed on. Ralph knew the risks when he made the decision to retrieve Pauline’s closest friend, but keeping her safe from the consequences that waited was worth it – even if it could cost him his life.

As they closed in on the exit, the porthole began to shimmer and several of the donut cops walked through, batons and Taser guns at the ready.

“It’s the criminal!” Winchell shouted.

Ralph glanced over at DK. The ape met his eye briefly, blowing through his nostrils with a low grunt. Ralph cracked his knuckles. If he was going down, he wasn’t going without a fight. “We’re gonna wreck it!” he yelled, barreling at the cops with fists ready to smash.

* * *

 

Pauline sighed, resting her chin on her palm, as she waited for any news of Ralph’s return. Calhoun had asked her for every detail of the events prior to her entrance into Wasteland. When she’d explained everything, Calhoun told her to wait in the briefing room.

Felix had brought her something to drink and made small talk for a few minutes before scampering off to check on things. That left Pauline alone, and the quiet was eating at her. She was terrified for her two dearest friends. She couldn’t imagine living without either one of them, even if she had gone months without seeing Ralph before.

The door whooshed open, causing Pauline to sit up straight. It was a long shot to wish for Ralph and DK to walk through, and she half-expected Calhoun or Felix to bring her an update. But what she wasn’t ready for was a blue streak that zipped at her and two short arms squeezing her around her waist.

Pauline looked down into the smiling face of Vanellope, and the sight warmed her heart. “Hi there, cupcake,” she greeted, returning the hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Vanellope bounced on her toes, her excitement bubbling over. She grabbed Pauline’s hand, tugging her to stand. “Come on! Sarge told me to come get you.”

“What for?” Pauline asked, trying not to stumble in her heels as she was pulled along.

“You’ll see!” was Vanellope’s vague answer.

They wound through a maze of hallways before exited the building. Pauline peering around, taking in the grey surroundings as best she could. Their trek must have been taking too long for Vanellope; Pauline felt the ground fall out from beneath her and she blinked to find they were in a completely different place than they were just at.

“Sorry,” Vanellope said, sheepishly grinning at her. “Got a little carried away and glitched us the rest of the way here.”

“It’s okay,” Pauline squeezed the girl’s hand that she still held.

Relief blanketed Pauline all over at the scene they came up on. DK was standing calmly, his eyes shifting from one way to the other in his own way of surveying the new place. Poor Ralph was currently being chewed out by Calhoun, and he stood his ground as the sergeant yelled in his face and occasionally smacked him in the jaw.

Pauline ran to DK, hugging his hairy arm. “Oh DK, you’re alright!” The ape looked down at her, gently patting the top of her head.

“If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll string you up by your toes and use you as cy-bug bait!” Calhoun stabbed a finger toward the barracks. “You’re confined to your quarters until further notice.”

“Aye-aye, Sarge.” Ralph saluted in respect. He glanced Pauline’s way, giving her a small smile before lumbering off to the barracks.

Vanellope caught up with him. “Is this frosting?” she asked, examining the chocolatey substance on his knuckles.

“Sure is.”

Vanellope gasped in delight. “You beat up the donut cops?!”

“Yep,” Ralph replied, smugly.

Vanellope squealed, glitching onto his shoulder to hug his neck. “That’s my stinkbrain!”

* * *

 

Being confined to his quarters wasn’t too terrible; at least he had some extra time to read a good book or two before Calhoun’s gavel slammed down on his head.

His door slid open. He expected Vanellope to come zipping in to slice through his quiet time, but the click-clack of heels on the metal floor informed him that it wasn’t the energetic racer.

Ralph pushed up on his elbow from his laid back position. “Paulie.”

Pauline walked over to the bunk, hands clasped in front of her. “Do you mind some company?”

Ralph smiled. “Of course not.” He patted the spot on the bed beside him, and Pauline hopped up, using his chest as a back rest. “How’re you and DK settling in?”

“We’re settling alright.” She thumbed towards the door. “I left DK snoring.” Like that, her tone changed. “Thank you eternally for bring him here.”

Ralph rubbed her slender arm with the tips of his fingers, internally thankful to have her with him again. “Anything for you.”

The space between them fell silent, and Ralph could tell something was on Pauline’s mind. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before she let loose what she was thinking. “It hurt me deeply that you didn’t take me with you into hiding. I was angry and scared that I’d never see you again.”

Ralph gulped, feeling guilt invade his chest. No explanation would make up for the time they lost and hurt it caused, but he would give one anyway. “I thought I was protecting you by staying away. Those first couple of months after King Candy’s takeover was really unpredictable and we had no clue how to handle it at first. I didn’t want to drag you into a war if you were safe enough in your own world.” He looked at her desperately trying to get her to understand. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Paulie. I really am.”

Ralph could see the glean in the corners of Pauline’s eyes, but no tears fell. “I believe you.”

“Can you forgive me?”

Pauline leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek; the simple gesture filling Ralph with sweet relief. “We’re together now, and that’s what matters.” She tapped the book lying on the battered army trunk he used as a nightstand. “Read to me for a little bit?”

Ralph smiled as Pauline kicked off her heels and snuggled closer to him, cracking open the book to the page he had dog-eared. War would still wage outside of their cozy little space, but for now they could forget about it, just for a little while.


	4. Chapter 4

“Listen up, ladies!” Sergeant Calhoun barked, pacing the span of the line of soldiers, “Thanks to our friend, Wreck-It, who caused a ruckus the size of the Jupiter, our plan to take-down King Candy-bug will be 100 times harder.”

Her boots tapped solidly on the metal ground as she made her way to the end of the row. She glared daggers at the two men who were murmuring to one another.

“Hey Jake,” Ralph called under his breath.

“Yeah?” Markowski said out of the side of his mouth.

“Have you noticed lately that Sarge has been angrier than usual?”

Markowski chuckled to himself. “When is Sarge _not_ angry?”

“Watch yourself, boys,” Kohut warned, nodding his chin to the oncoming reprimand.

“Wreck-It! Markowski!” Calhoun yelled, and the two men jumped to attention. “Want to share your little discussion with the class?”

“No, Sarge,” Markowski answered, looking far too prepared for a blow to the face.

Calhoun offered mercy to the soldier…this time, and focused her eagle eyes on Ralph. “Wreck-It, if you can’t take this threat seriously, then you can get the hell out of Wasteland.”

“I do take this seriously. I want King Candy gone as much as any of you, probably more than anyone here!”

Calhoun grabbed the neck of his armor, Ralph’s rebuttal falling at her feet. “Then prove it to me!” Black fuzz invaded the sergeant’s vision. She closed her eyes, holding her head as her whole body swayed. Her knees gave out from under her, and the last thing Calhoun heard was Kohut calling name.

* * *

 

The faint hint of light edged the opening of her eyelids as Calhoun became aware of the surroundings. She rolled to her side, the fatigued state of her muscles angering her. Weak was not an option, especially for someone in her position.

“Stay down, soldier,” a gruff voice ordered. Who the _hell_ would give her an order?

“I’m your superior officer, Kohut.” Calhoun tried to push into a sitting position, but a firm hand gently pressed her shoulder against the examine table.

“You may be my superior officer, but you’re also my friend. You need to stay put while the doctor checks you over.”

Calhoun glared at him, but complied. The doctor had barely begun to take her vitals when there was a clamber outside the room, and a frantic Felix appeared at her side.

“Tammy! Are you okay? Ralph told me you’d passed out and were taken to the medic.” He grabbed up her hand, holding it as if she’d fall into the oblivion if he let go. “Does the doctor know what’s wrong?”

“Fix-It.” Calhoun pinned Felix with the sharpest look she could in her weakened state. Even though she knew he was probably worried out of his mind, his overwhelming concern would only agitate her. “The doctor was about to run an exam. Scoot back and let the man do his job.”

Felix held her gaze before kissing the back of her palm and stepped out the way. Calhoun tried her best to smile softly to show her gratitude for him backing off. Kohut excused himself now that he was no longer needed, reminding Calhoun to fill him in later.

The doctor proceeded with the exam. Calhoun felt the awkward silence dragged on for hours as her small husband watched, wringing his gloved hands. When the doctor asked her if anything out of the ordinary had been happening to her lately, Calhoun fessed up, “I’ve had several bouts of vomiting, along with fatigue.”

“Tamora Jean!” Felix gasped. “You were sick more than once?” He was at her bedside again, fixing her with a stern eye. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this,” Calhoun gestured toward him, scowling. “You get so worked up over me.”

“I am your husband, and I am concerned for you.” Felix crossed arms over his chest, pouting.

Calhoun groaned, rubbing the heels of her hands down her face. “See anything out of the ordinary, doc?”

The doctor suggested running a blood test; Calhoun served up her arm for the needle. Rest was ordered, though Calhoun knew her body would have to be lying cold dead on the side of a road before she got any rest. She also knew Felix wouldn’t leave her side until results from the blood test were in.

Calhoun ordered Ralph to keep the handyman busy during training and strategy hours. It was a cruel plan and Felix would have a fit over her avoidance, but it had to be done to keep her sanity. Concentrating on the ongoing war was more important than wondering over her health, especially when there was no answer.

Two days passed before the blood test results were concluded. Sitting alone in the doctor’s office, Tamora heard her whole world collapse into a heap of mangled plans.

She trudged back to her quarters, her mind a mess of questions and uncertainty. She found Felix waiting her as he had the last couple of days since her fainting incident.

The instant he saw her, he knew. “You got your results?”

Tamora walked passed him, and plopped down heavily on their bed. Felix joined her, touching her arm; the bulky armor she wore for training removed before seeing the doctor.

“Tammy, talk to me, please.”

She looked his way, though her face was obscured by her long bangs. There were many ways to explain, but only one simple answer was needed, “I’m pregnant.”

The look of shock that froze Felix in place quickly melted into pure joy. He clutched her arm, pushing up onto his knees to face her better. “We’re having a baby?”

“That’s usually what happened when someone is pregnant,” Tamora quipped, though the humor was missing from her voice.

“It’s a miracle!” Felix flung his arms around her, planting several kisses to the crown of her head. “I didn’t think it was possible. We’re from two different worlds; we weren’t supposed to be able to have children.”

“Looks like we kicked the odd’s ass.”

Felix swept the curtain of bangs behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. “Tammy, this is wonderful.” The smile that lit his face brighter than the sun clinched Tamora’s heart. All Felix could see was blue skies and sunshine, but reality was a cold-blooded monster, content to swallow any ounce of joy.

She got to her feet, and began pacing the floor. Someone had to lay down the harsh facts, and she was the most qualified, whether she liked it or not.

“This isn’t wonderful, Fix-It.” Tamora kept her gaze to the wall, floor, anywhere she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the heartbreak she was about to deliver. “It’s possibly the worst thing that can happen!”

She felt the lightness in the room suddenly go dim like a blanket thrown over a lamp. Felix stood up on the bed, trying to catch her eye, but Tamora avoided him.

“How can you say that?” She didn’t need to look at him; the disappointment was painfully evident in his voice. “I know we’d given up on the idea of having children, but I thought somewhere deep down you still wished we could.”

“I did, but the point is not what me or you want.” Tamora finally turned to him, gesturing towards the door where the outside world waited. “We’re at war, Felix. There’s a crazed lunatic out there who mercilessly kills; whose prime target is a little girl who has done nothing to him.”

She slabbed a thumb to her chest, driving the point, “I command the army that heavens willing will take the bastard down one day. I’m needed on the frontline; I don’t have time to worry about the wellbeing of a person growing inside me. I’m okay if I die in battle, but a child – our child-“

Tamora pressed her tightly curled fists to her eyes, taking two deep breathes. The silence surrendering them was maddening. Her mind felt on fire, crackling and burning every good thought, leaving an ash heap.

“How can we bring a baby into this warped world, Felix?” Her hands fell limply to her sides.

Felix stayed planted on the bed for several beats, his crushed expression digging into the already bleeding wound in Tamora’s chest. He reached his hand out for her to come to him, and Tamora didn’t hesitate to enter his embrace. His name was Fix-It, but his special ability wasn’t the reason Tamora felt unbroken in his hold.

“I don’t know, Tammy,” Felix murmured against her ear. “It may be tomorrow we get the best on King Candy, or it may be 10 years from now. I promise I’ll protect both of you, even if I must be on alarm 24/7.”

Tamora squeezed her eyes closed tightly, knowing he would keep his word. If there was one thing to say about Felix, he was unwittingly brave when it came to what mattered most. Just him alone wouldn’t be able to keep the gnawing shadows from their threshold, but what chose did they have?

A baby was forming inside her; a part of her and a part of Felix. Tamora had to accept it whether the timing was convenient or not, and the devastating idea of losing the baby while engaged in battle was a risk she had to take.

“I hate this,” Tamora murmured, her whole body drudged down under the weight of disquietude. She lied on the bed, draping an arm over her view. “I hate this war, I hate living in hiding, and I _hate_ that psycho–bug-hybrid.”

She felt the bed shift beside her, and Tamora slid her arm away from her face. “I hate it too, Tammy. Everything about our situation makes me so cross! I miss our home; our adventures; being able to simply bake in our kitchen.” The anger dropped from Felix’s voice, and the feel of his touch on her stomach caught the breath in her throat. “But we have to make the best of what we have right now, and if all we have is each other, then that’s gonna have to be enough.”

Tamora slid her arm away from her face, resting it alongside Felix’s hand on her tummy. Blue skies and sunshine, but she needed his tiny ray of sunshine because sometimes that’s the only thing that kept her going.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey Felix, I bet I can hit the bullseye 3 out of 3 times.”

“Oh yeah, Dodge? What kind of wager do you have in mind?”

Vanellope grinned at the friendly competition. As dark as their circumstances were, her grown-ups didn’t let it taint the morale of the base. They also never excluded her or sugar-coated their situation just because she was a kid. She knew what was going on and what was at stake, and was secretly grateful for the inclusion.

Yeah, her grown-ups were pretty cool.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” she heard Ralph say from behind her.

Vanellope twisted around, dropping the end of her hoodie lace from her mouth. “Dodge challenged Felix to a bow and arrow competition, and they even made wagers! My bet is on Felix.”

Ralph furrowed his eyebrow, finding no one else in the vicinity. “Who’re you betting with?”

Vanellope grinned. “Doi! You, blockhead!”

“Nu-uh,” Ralph sliced a hand through the air, “I know better than to bet against Mr. Perfectionist.”

“Awww, c’mon, Ralphie. Live a little. Dodge may surprise you.”

“I’m good at being a spectator.”

“Fine.” Vanellope pouted for the better part of a second before craning to look around Ralph at his petite companion. “Hey Pauline!”

Pauline smiled. “How’re you, Vanny?”

A few lines of small talk ensued before the attention was focused on the competition. A question from Ralph floated to Vanellope’s ears, and an answer from Pauline followed. Vanellope glanced out of the corner of her peripheral vision as Ralph told Pauline to hang on. She hugged one of his blocky fingers as he lifted her up then sat her down gently on the metal barrel beside him.

Pauline giggled. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

Ralph followed with his own soft chuckle. “Your welcome, fair lady.”

That little moment was the perfect example of their relationship. Where Felix and Sarge didn’t hide their affection for one another, Ralph and Pauline were far more subtle about matters. They were never all mushy in front of people or shared a show-stopping kiss. Vanellope couldn’t recall one instant where she caught Ralph and Pauline kissing on the lips; nothing really beyond a quick peck on the cheek.

A triumphant yelp rang out, snapping Vanellope out of her thoughts. Three arrows sat dead center on the target with Felix looking mighty proud of himself. The handyman and the turbo twin made their way over to the spectators.

“Hey Felix, how’s Sarge doing?” Ralph asked as both 8-bit men shouldered their bows. “Kohut’s been leading training ever since she had the incident.”

“She’s better,” Felix answered, planting palms on his hips. There was something in the way his face contorted that Vanellope wondered what he wasn’t sharing. “You know Tammy, she puts too much on her shoulders, and the stress wasn’t good for her or the-“ Felix paused suddenly, gritting his teeth in the obvious way of his when something was wrong, “-platoon.”

The giant muttonhead didn’t seem to notice Felix’s odd pause as he continued the conversation. “I know this isn’t exactly your thing, but some of us are getting together for a poker game tonight. Why don’t you and Sarge join us? It’d be good for her to unwind.”

“We may take you up on that offer. Thanks, brother.”

“Poker night!” Vanellope exclaimed, glitching to Ralph’s shoulder. “Sounds like fun!”

“No can do. You’re not invited this time.”

“Why not?”

“Because last time you kept dropping hints about who had the best hands.”

“But that’s the fun of it!”

“Sorry, kid. Grown-up night needs to stay for grown-ups. Why don’t you and what’s-her-face - Flamehead?”

“Candlehead.”

“Yeah, why don’t you and her have a little card game of your own?”

“You’ve met Candlehead, right? She may have a flame on her head, but she’s not the brightest candle on the birthday cake.”

“You only think that because you’re too smart for your own good.”

Try as she may to convince Ralph to let her join in, the big guy stayed firm. While the grown-ups were having their yippity-doo-dah good time, Vanellope was sitting across from Candlehead on her bed.

Her fellow Sugar Rush racer was brought into hiding several weeks ago after a rather messy ordeal involving the other racers. They’d basically used Candlehead as a punching bag, making it clear that the Sugar Rush kids were everything but sweet. Vanellope wondered how she could be cut from the same cloth as any of them.

“Do you have any 4s?”

Vanellope heaved a dramatic sigh, handing over the 4 of spades. “This blows.”

“I’ll give you back the 4 if it’ll make you feel better.”

Vanellope shook her head, and pushed away Candlehead’s extending hand. “No, I mean, being stuck here!” She tossed her cards in the air, the rectangular papers fluttering down around them. “It’s driving me crazy that I can’t be behind the wheel.”

She threw herself back on the bed. The last several months of hiding were like a whirlwind and a stagnant pool all in one; danger and bored mixed together to create a strange sense of existence. “My hands itch to hold the steering wheel again.”

Candlehead’s face popped into view over her. “You can,” she said excitedly.

“How?” Vanellope pushed up on her elbows. “We can’t go traipsing into Sugar Rush.”

“Before I came here, I found a secret porthole in Sugar Rush! I’d use it to get away from the other racers when they, y’know-“ Candlehead looked off to the side, rubbing her forearm.

Vanellope knew the feeling all too well, and a royal indignation burned inside toward those sour patch kids. “Are you sure no one else knows about it?”

Candlehead nodded. “We can sneak in, find some karts, and race on the outskirts where no one else will be.”

Vanellope pushed her better judgement aside as sitting behind the wheel of a kart played in her mind. She’d have to sneak into Ralph’s quarters to borrow his cloaking device. With a devilish grin, she decided, “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“So, this big whoop-de-doo you want to show me is in the junkyard?”

“Trust me!” Candlehead pulled Vanellope along by the hand. “You’re gonna love it!”

As they approached the peak of the hill that led to the junkyard, Candlehead threw her arms out as if presenting a prize on a gameshow. “Ta-da!”

Vanellope couldn’t believe her eyes, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Parked in the middle of the junkyard was her kart; the very same kart her and Ralph made together. She glitched down the bank of the junkyard then jogged to her kart.

The biggest smile split her face as Vanellope gazed in awe at her most prized possession that she thought was gone forever. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured as Candlehead joined her. “King Candy didn’t destroy it.” She giggled in excitement, kissing the tire. “How I’ve missed you!”

“Reunited,” said a voice that sent chills like fingernails crawling up Vanellope’s back, “How sweet.”

Panic flooded her as she spun around to find King Candy at the lip of the other hill, the donut cops standing on either side of him and several cy-bugs surrounding them. He sneered at her in delight, his eyes flashing an eerie tint of yellow. “Welcome back, glitch.”

“Candlehead, come on!” Vanellope grabbed her friend’s hand and tried pulling her into the kart, but Candlehead stayed put.

King Candy giggled, traipsing down the slope. “You did well, my dear girl. You brought the glitch right to me.”

Vanellope turned wide-eyes on her friend, hurt thickening her words. “You sold me out?”

Tears were welling up in Candlehead’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Vanellope. I didn’t want to hurt you, but-“ she gestured toward the tyrant who was now far too close for Vanellope’s comfort, “it’s King Candy! I can’t disobey him!”

Vanellope felt the ground drop from under her. The Sugar Rush racers were under King Candy’s reign for so long their allegiance to him was rooted in their code no matter how reformed they may have seemed after his fall from power.

She backed away slowly, darting her eyes about desperate to spot any kind of escape. She could glitch away, but she was sure King Candy already suspected she would and covered every possible move she’d make.

King Candy lifted arms over his head, the surrounding cy-bugs rising at his silent command. “There’s no use in trying to escape,” he taunted, the creepy image of Turbo flickering over his face, “Your mine, glitch.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

It was the little moments Calhoun lived for. The drive that kept her going may have come from the need to survive and keep everyone around her alive, but her reason to live was much simpler. A bright smile, a loving touch, an adoring word; it was those moments she fought for with all her strength.

When Calhoun felt the smooth leather of Felix’s glove grasp her hand as they walked to the common room of the bunkers, warmth spread inside her and she squeezed his hand in her thankfulness for his existence.

They paused at the common room door, and Felix smiled up at her as if quietly asking her one more time if she was up for a social gathering with the boys. She slapped the bill of his hat down over his eyes. Felix scrambled to pop it back into place, a soft laugh accompanying the action. Moments like these are what she lived for.

Calhoun pressed the button and the door whooshed open. A typical poker scene greeted them. A handful of soldiers including Kohut and Markawski sat at a round table, along with Ralph and a few other refugees. They received a warm welcome before Felix was dealt into game; Calhoun sitting back in a chair to watch.

When they started dating, Felix’s old-fashioned standards made it taboo in his mind to play poker. Calhoun’s looser standards of life had whittled him down to seeing the bigger picture of things. There were far more morally corrupt actions than participating in a simple poker game.

As the game unfolded, a restless feeling set in Calhoun’s bones. She wanted to stay and watch, but her body was telling her she needed to move; do something besides be a bump on a log. She sighed to herself. _So much for relaxing._

“Felix,” Calhoun touched her husband’s back, and he glanced over his shoulder at her, “I’m shipping out.”

He began to lay his cards down. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” She stopped him before he folded out the game. “You stay here and have a good time.” He tried to protest, but Calhoun smothered it with a kiss. “I’ll be fine.” She straightened up, her fingertips ghosting along the nape of the handyman’s neck. “And Fix-it? Good hand.”

Calhoun smirked, leaving a rumble of grumbling in her wake.

She trudged through the bunker corridor, ready to unload the weapons strapped to her and feel the hot stream of a shower. Maybe the warmth would settle her restlessness.

As she passed Ralph’s quarters, she spotted a note taped to his door. She recognized Vanellope’s cursive handwriting scratched on it. She wasn’t one to read another’s private message, but if the note was from Vanellope, something was up. Calhoun skimmed over the words, gasping at the realization of the message.

“What the hell is she thinking?” Calhoun hissed, snatching the note up. She quickly retrieved her cruiser from her quarters and rushed toward the closest porthole.

“Hasselback!” she called, approaching the soldier on duty. She thrusted the note at him, and pointed at the bunkers. “We have a situation! Von Schweetz snuck out to take a joyride in Sugar Rush. Go inform Kohut that I’m on my way there now to retrieve her. I’ll need your gun.”

Hasselback handed over his weapon and took off to deliver the information. Calhoun pressed a button on her wrist gauntlet, and within seconds her armor unfolded around her. She inhaled deeply and readied her pistol, praying this wouldn’t be a suicide mission.

 

* * *

 

The cloaking device got her the Sugar Rush porthole as she zoomed through the station on her cruiser, the sound of her transportation receiving bewildered looks from bystanders. Calhoun knew Vanellope’s candy-coated world well enough, and she rode to the places she suspected the little girl would visit.

Panic gripped Calhoun as she stopped short at the scene that was unfolding in the junkyard. A hoard of cy-bugs surrounded the dumping ground with King Candy at the center and the small form of Vanellope stood pressed against what looked like her old kart.

Calhoun gritted her teeth, her limbs ignoring the fear that she felt for her young friend. She whipped the blaster from her back. “Eat plasma, you oozing pusholes!”

King Candy’s face jerked upward at the intrusion. A smirk graced his features before the cy-bugs blasted off into the air at his telepathic command. Calhoun fired several shots, obliterating two cy-bugs. But these flying viruses didn’t fly erratically or charged at anything in their path. These cy-bugs were coordinated, flying in a formation that quickly overtook the sergeant.  

“After her!” Calhoun heard King Candy yell before the cy-bug holding her unclinched its pinchers, and a scream erupted from Calhoun as she fell towards the cocoa dirt.

Sharp nails snatched her out the air. A hand rolled her over and the hideous face of the cy-brid tyrant grinned wickedly at her. “Sergeant Calhoun,” her name dripped like acid off his tongue, “Leader of the pitiful army that’s like an irritating fly buzzing around that needs to be,“ he squeezed and pain shot through her lungs as her armor compressed around her, “smashed.”

“Sire,” the donut cop, Winchell, interrupted, nervously.

King Candy rolled his eyes. “Speak!”

Wenchell flinched. “The glitch escaped.”

King Candy vibrated with a growled, but when he looked back at Calhoun, his features lightened and he trilled in delight. “I know exactly what to do with you, sergeant.”

 

* * *

 

Vanellope sped through the secret porthole of Wasteland, barely keeping her kart from careening out of control. She wasn’t sure if her kart even worked anymore, but it was worth a try than being caught by those icky cy-bugs and their deranged puppet master.

She skidded to a halt on the metal ground of Wasteland, glitching in a flurry of blue streaks to the bunkers. She spotted Ralph speaking with Kohut, concern etched all over his big mug. She dashed up to him, tugging at his overalls’ leg.

“Kid!” Ralph yelped in surprise, scooping her up in his massive palm. “What were you thinking? You could of gotten caught or worse!”

The lecture ceased when Ralph noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ralph, he has her.”

Ralph’s eyebrows knitted together. “Who has who?” 

Vanellope sniffed, using her hoodie sleeve as a tissue. How could she be so careless? Now her actions could get one of her closest friends killed. “King Candy captured Sarge.”


End file.
